


Run to You

by Drake



Series: You, the Runner [1]
Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: 2nd Person, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/pseuds/Drake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's blood in the air and a ringing in your ears, and amidst all the noise there's one thing louder than it all.<br/>"Run."</p><p> </p><p>Season 1, Mission 9</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run to You

**Author's Note:**

> everyone and their mother has written about s1m9 but i don't caRE
> 
> 2nd person for all of you, but if that's not your thing, you can read the third person version here -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1102382

There's blood in the air and a ringing in your ears, and amidst all the noise there's one thing louder than it all.

"Run."

So that's what you do. Run and run, away from New Canton and a horde of zombies alike, but most importantly, away from _Abel._ Away from Sam, and what was fast becoming home. And it's in a quiet spot, as the sun gets lower and dyes the world orange, that you realize that the stench of blood hadn't been left behind in New Canton. And that there's something warm on your side. That's blood, alright, but worse than that, it's _your_ blood. A lot of your blood.

And that's...well, that's almost enough to stop you for a moment. But over that is the knowledge that if you stop, you're dead. So you run, even though now that you've categorized that smell as coming from you, it's started burning, a lance of agony through your side worse than any cramp you've had before. You try to ignore it, and start to swing around, in what you hope will be a clear route home. It's late now, the sun gone and the last warmth of the day fading out with it. You feel it, foreign and strange, because you've never run at night before, not at Abel.

And you see it, a mark scratched into a tree, the crescent moon with an x through it that meant _not safe after dark._ Great. Fantastic. You don't have an operator to pull you through this, and each subsequent tree you pass looks more and more inviting. Maybe you could climb into one and just sleep the night off.

A rest would do you good, you decide, slowing down to scramble up into a tree before a zomb sees you do it. But just as you get your foot against the trunk, your headset crackles to life, and the sound is enough to make you freeze, straining to hear.

"Runner Five...Come in Runner Five...Come in...If you can hear me, Runner Five..."

The static rushes in waves over the sound, but it's _Sam._ Sam's still calling out for you, although you haven't responded for hours, haven't been in range. You try now, a quiet, "I'm here, Sam," because you've learned zombies are more active by night, but he doesn't hear you. Too far, still.

And that tree doesn't look so inviting anymore.

"I don't even know if you're alive..."

Not when Sam's sitting there, _hoping_ you're alive and dreading you're not in the same breath. Not when waiting for the morning will only be proof that you're gone. You make a decision, reaching to pull off your jacket and wrap it tightly around your bleeding side.

"There'll be no way for you to get in...and we'll have to watch..."

No time for anything else, and you don't have the supplies to waste on botched attempts to fix yourself up in the dark. You set off at a jog, the crisp fall air freezing your lungs, and ignore the lance of pain with every land of your left foot. If you don't make it before that swarm Sam was talking about, it was over.

Sometimes it was hard. In the silences between Sam's static, when it seemed like your legs would give out from sheer exhaustion after running for at least eight hours, now. Sometimes it was all you could do to keep going until you heard Sam's voice again.

"I just called you my friend...is that cool with you?"

It kept you going a while longer. Knowing that if you kept moving, Sam would keep talking. He'd tell you about failing engineering and waking up Janine to ask about ice cream roll cakes. You'd get to hear more about him.

"If you're still Runner Five, keep running."

And that was all it took. The tail of zombies that had started to gather behind you - no doubt driven by the stink of blood you left behind, a trail that any shambler or sprinter in the area could pick up - started to grow, and the moans of hunger were getting louder, almost enough to drown out Sam.

"Who'll be left to remember you?"

You shouldn't be running back to Abel dripping blood, leaving a trail for any undead to follow. But you didn't have a choice. It was either bring a few extra zoms to the usual swarm, or die.

"Run, Runner Five. Run on home. If you can."

You put on a burst of speed, even if the effort drew a muffled cry of pain. You would make it back. For Sam. He didn't need to lose another Five.

"I've gotta be honest...we're losing hope here."

" _I'm coming_ ," you try to answer, but hear nothing in response. Still too far. Unsurprising, since you could barely see the red beacon on the tower from here. But you still had time. It wasn't over yet. It wasn't over until you were bitten.

"No one stays sane through this, Five."

 _I know. I'm almost there. Hang on, Sam._ Funny, that your first thought would be to try and comfort him. To save _him_ the pain of losing another runner. Not fear of you dying a horrible death. That was almost...easier.

"Oh my _god_ , is that...Runner Five, I can see you!"

Relief. It rang in your ears, in the dead (ha,ha) quiet of the night, punctuated only by zombie moans. Sam's elation.

It also meant he hasn't seen your hasty bandage yet. Too dark, probably.

"Run, run, _run._ "

The last ' _run_ ' is both louder and fainter. Sam's voice had risen as if he were shouting, but there was also a clattering, a door slamming, and silence. The _'raise the gates_ ' you heard next wasn't from the comms shack. It was from within Abel.

You push yourself into a sprint, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up at the sound of moans so close behind you. You're limping now, your left leg taking shorter, lighter steps in hope of alleviating the pain in your side from running so fast. But the gates were raising, and bullets were raining down around you - friendly, _protective_ bullets this time - and you understood suddenly what you'd heard.

Sam was standing right in the gate, looking terrified and hopeful at the same time, ready to pull you in as they slammed the gates shut if need be.

That also meant he saw the blood. His eyes widened as you step through the gates and they fell shut, and you finally slow down. The blind adrenaline high you'd been on vanished, stretched too thin for hours, and your legs start to give out on you even as you jog toward Sam.

"We've got you Runner Five! You're _home_."

He catches you as your legs finally give, despite seeing the blood, despite fearing infection, and all you can do is cling onto him, breathing heavily. His arms grip you tightly, both holding you up and squeezing the life out of you.

"I thought you...I thought you'd gone grey," he whispers against your hair, and you nod.  "You're not...about to go grey, are you?" he follows, looking in concern at your side.

You shake your head, murmuring, "Bullet. I probably would have, though. Considered napping in a tree until morning. Probably would've fallen out."

Sam laughs, shaking his head as you catch your breath, and try not to rely so much on Sam to stay standing, considering the crowd that was starting to gather, pulled out of sleep by the commotion.

"If you hadn't kept talking, just...just talking, I wouldn't have made it back." You tell him, standing up and looking him in the eyes. He shakes his head.

"You would've found a way. You're Runner Five."

 

 


End file.
